


Show Me Your Teeth

by Evoxine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, M/M, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoxine/pseuds/Evoxine
Summary: When Sehun started university, he had expected the parties and the weed and the mad rush that comes with finals week, but never did he expect a certain Kim Jongin to appear in his life.Fill #6 for my Sekai Secret Santa event.





	Show Me Your Teeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [februarytwentyfive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/februarytwentyfive/gifts).



> In this, Jongin is one year older than Sehun!

Freshman year hits him like a tornado to the face. It’s fast, it’s thrilling, and it’s nothing like Sehun had ever expected. He joins a handful of clubs and leaves almost all of them after the second meeting. Parties are different in university – they go hard and they do so without any restraint, but Sehun steels his stomach and his wallet, and he goes to one house party every weekend. Maybe he’s overly ambitious, wanting to meet as many people and do as many activities as possible before he needs to buckle down and study, but this is _university_ life. He’s not gonna be in his 20s forever.

It takes a few months for him to find his niche in this chaotic, heart-palpitating world. But he eventually settles down with a nice group of friends, sticks to the dance team, and… well, he still goes to parties.

He meets one of his closest friends in the cafeteria. Sehun had dyed his hair a pale pink over the weekend on sheer impulse, and the guy next to him in line proceeds to spend two whole minutes complimenting the shade and petting his hair. Feathers all fluffed, it’s only natural for Sehun to befriend Byun Baekhyun.

Being Baekhyun’s friend is a beneficial experience in and of itself. The man is a social butterfly – he knows everyone and he can get almost anything just by asking. He gets free food on a daily basis, the best seats in lecture halls, and a table in the cafeteria has practically been branded with his name. Sehun swears Baekhyun gets a free bonus mark or two on quizzes, but his friend neither confirms nor denies it.

But the best part of being friends with Baekhyun? Meeting #18.

Baekhyun’s the setter of the university’s varsity volleyball team. The first time Sehun goes to a game and lays eyes on _Kim #18_ , the team’s star wing spiker, he’s immediately infatuated. Kim stays on the court for all five sets and Sehun doesn’t take his eyes off the player’s frame for a single second. Sharp jawline, sculpted cheekbones, crazily defined biceps… Ugh, heaven.

Power is packed into that toned, tight body, evident in every swing of his arm and leap off the ground. He literally makes the volleyball his bitch and Sehun is honest-to-god salivating by the end of the game. When the whistle blows for the final time that night, Sehun is already thinking of subtle ways to ask Baekhyun for Kim’s name.

Sometimes, however, things don’t really go the way you want them to.

After the customary handshakes and one final huddle, the team disperses. Kim stops by the bench for his bottle of water and swerves over to the bleachers, where Sehun watches with a sinking gut as he leans down and kisses someone sound on the lips.

Well, there goes that. At least he isn’t in love with the guy, Sehun reasons with himself. That would _really_ suck.

 

 

 

  
As luck would have it, Sehun officially meets Kim just a couple of weeks later at a house party that Baekhyun had easily gotten him into. For the first couple of hours, he remains blissfully unaware of Kim’s presence in the house. Too busy hanging out by the alcohol, Sehun is well and truly drunk by the time someone bumps into him, apologetic hands coming around to settle on his hips.

“Sorry man, you okay?”

Sehun’s already dilated pupils widen just a little more when they focus on that stupidly handsome face. His skin burns where Kim’s hands are and he gets the sudden desire to lean in and bite that pillowy bottom lip until it bruises. But of course, he resists, and simply croaks out a, “I’m fine.”

He gets a blinding smile in return and it nearly rips out a confession from Sehun’s throat. But someone calls out for Kim, for a round of beer pong, and Sehun is reminded that he’s at a goddamn party. Stepping away from him, Sehun is just about to go hunt for some water when Kim addresses him again.

“Hey, you any good at beer pong? My usual partner is nowhere to be found, and I have ten bucks on the line.”

He might be drunk, but Sehun is not drunk enough to give up an opportunity as good as this.

“I’m a little drunk,” he admits, dragging out the vowel in _little_ , “but I’m quite decent if I can say so myself.”

Kim grins and slings an arm around his shoulders. Sehun inhales the freshness of his cologne and swallows a pathetic whine.

“Alright, I believe in you.”

Sehun has never focused on something so much in life even when he was sober, and he’s drunk. Right now, it’s beer pong or die.

They go undefeated for five straight games. By the third one, they switch over to water – Sehun doesn’t actually want to die from alcohol poisoning –, and Sehun’s bladder is close to exploding when they finally call it a day with the beer pong table.

“Dude, you’re a god!”

No one can blame Sehun for refusing to fight back that proud smirk.

“I’m Jongin, by the way. You’re Baekhyun’s friend, right? I’ve seen you guys hanging out a lot.”

“Yeah,” Sehun answers. Heat crawls up his neck, most likely from the alcohol still surging through his system, but probably also because of how intense Jongin’s gaze is on his face. “I’ve seen a few of your games – Baekhyun really likes to have as many members of his fan club to be at his games.”

Jongin laughs, the sound a bright melody that wraps around Sehun’s belly like a tea cosy.

“God, yeah, he really does.”

Sehun’s just about to crack a joke when someone sidles up to Jongin. The guy’s tall and built like a tank, looking like a fucking model with a set of perfect teeth and a head of neatly coiffed blond hair. When he turns to look at Sehun, all curiosity and no hostility, Sehun gets the urge to lean over and deck the guy in his pretty blue eyes.

“Oh hey,” Jongin says, twisting around and pressing a hand against the guy’s _cleavage_. Wow, why even bother wearing a shirt if it’s shredded into practically nothing? “Julien, this is Sehun. He’s Baekhyun’s friend, so you already know what strong will he’s got. Julien’s my boyfriend, unfortunately.”

How unfortunate, Sehun deadpans mentally.

But he shakes Julien’s hand anyway, cursing the guy for the fact that’s he’s friendly – that means he has absolutely no reason to hate him except for the fact that he’s dating the person who’s possibly the man of his dreams. Well, his nose is a little crooked, but that only serves to add charm. Ugh.

…Okay, he’s drunk as shit and he really needs to sit down.

 

 

 

  
Exam season comes and goes, as quick and brutal as a bullet train, leaving Sehun sprawled out in the dust in its wake. He picks himself up and dusts himself off, then proceeds to enjoy one last party the night before he’s due to head home for the month-long break.

Not wanting to meet up with his parents with a major hangover, he nurses a bottle of beer and spends the night with Baekhyun hanging off his arm. He snags a blunt off one of Baekhyun’s stoner friends and puffs on it while he watches his friend get destroyed at the pool table.

It’s fucking chaotic, but it’s a nice way to recover from finals. The noise, the overwhelming amount of body heat, the constant cloud of marijuana smoke – it completely numbs the stress of education and gives worn out students a sense of much-needed freedom.

Sehun floats along the fine line between high and stoned, simmers between tipsy and drunk. It’s nice, so nice, and he doesn’t even try to protest when Baekhyun gives up on playing pool and drags him over to what is supposed to be a dance floor. At least the speaker system is good, Sehun thinks hazily, feeling the heavy drop of the bass twang at his heartstrings. Several people tread on his toes and jostle his shoulders, but Sehun barely feels the pain.

He falls into the allure of dance easily, the experience of being pressed between sweaty, writhing bodies sending a thrill right through his core. Time slips away into nothingness as he moves, goosebumps ever-present on his skin as he lets the music take over.

It’s only when the heat gets too much and he has to pull his shirt off does he feel someone’s gaze burning a hole through his chest. In a room filled with blinding lights and equally dark shadows, it takes Sehun more than a few moments to hone in on those eyes. When he finally does, however, what he sees makes him lose his breath.

Jongin’s tucked away in a corner, a drink in his hands and seemingly forgotten as his gaze cuts a path through the crowd and envelops Sehun in a thrum of desire. He seems sober as hell and Julien is nowhere to be seen. Their eyes lock, and the beat of the bass is a weight in Sehun’s throat as he curls his fingers around the base of his neck. He drags his hand down from the hollow, past the sweaty staccato of his heart, and to the dip of his navel. His jeans ride low, the sharpness of his hips and the faint line of his Apollo’s belt further emphasised by the lights.

He sees Jongin swallow, sees his grip on the Solo cup tighten, and it’s with a sense of smugness that he turns away and breaks their connection.

After he gets back to his room that night, Sehun logs into Facebook to see a friend request from a certain Kim Jongin.

 

 

 

  
They actually become friends – in a very broad sense of the word – after that.

On the third day of the second semester, Sehun steps into the cafeteria to see Jongin occupying the seat next to his usual one. Well, this is new. Julien’s next to him, but Sehun pays him no mind as he drops his bag onto his chair and leans across the table to take Baekhyun’s half-finished smoothie.

“Get your own food,” Baekhyun says, but there’s no bite to his words.

“Lazy,” Sehun drawls, slumping further into his seat and taking a large gulp of the smoothie. Yum, mango and bananas. His knee bumps against Jongin’s.

Then, a plate containing two slices of pizza appears in front of him and Sehun follows the hand up to Jongin’s arm.

“Can’t finish this,” Jongin says. “You can have it.”

“Wow,” Julien comments, “you don’t usually give your food to other people.”

Jongin shrugs. “He’s _the_ beer pong god. I have to give him some incentive to stay around.”

Julien says something else that Sehun conveniently blocks out, and when Jongin leans over to kiss him, Sehun takes a large bite of pizza and fixes his gaze on a shitty poster hanging on the wall across the room.

And so, lunch becomes something that Sehun looks forward to and dreads at the same time. While he’s grateful for the time he gets to connect with Jongin when neither of them are drunk and/or high, he hates the fact that he has a front-row seat to the couple’s face-sucking activities. God, Julien has an insanely sharp jawline – how is that even _fair?_

With every day he gets to spend with Jongin, his crush and jealousy blossom alongside each other, two steadily growing entities that vie for space and priority inside his jumble of a soul.

Despite his internal battle, he continues going to all of the varsity volleyball team’s games, living for that one second when Jongin spots him in the crowd and smiles. Sure, he doesn’t get the kisses that Julien gets, but that’s why he makes it a point to never sit in the same row as the guy. It’s a pity, he thinks, because if they had met under different circumstances, Sehun is pretty sure they would be great friends.

When the volleyball season ends mid-March, Sehun feels a bit lost. But with a dance showcase in a couple of weeks and finals following right after, he simply doesn’t have the time to mourn the loss of watching Jongin bring the other team to their knees with a single swing of his arm.

He spends all his free time in the dance studio, studying when he’s taking a break from dance practice and practising when he’s taking a break from studying. His brain and muscles turn into mush, but by the time his performance rolls around, he still has enough sense left in him to threaten Baekhyun with bodily harm if he doesn’t show up to the dance showcase.

Unsurprisingly, Baekhyun turns up to the show with a bouquet so big in size that it obscures his entire body.

“My talented little dancer,” he coos, and Sehun blinks at the talking flowers. The rest of their friends snicker and Sehun exchanges a _???_ look with several of them.

“I’m not little,” he says automatically. “And how the hell am I supposed to take this home on the bus?”

“Hey, this wasn’t my idea,” Baekhyun says. “Well, not entirely my idea.”

When Baekhyun shifts to the side and the flowers move along with him, Sehun spots a familiar figure a few feet away. Jongin’s busy talking to one of the other dancers, but just as Sehun is about to look away, Jongin glances up and breaks into a wide smile.

A little nonplussed, Sehun watches as Jongin excuses himself from his conversation before walking over.

“You were really good up there,” he hears through the gurgle of blood in his ears. He doesn’t miss the flicker of Jongin’s eyes down the length of his body.

“Thanks,” his mouth says, all helpful. _Why are you here?_ His mouth also wants to ask, but his brain steps in just in time.

“All of us chipped in for this,” Jongin adds, waving to the monstrosity in Baekhyun’s arms.

“It was his idea,” Baekhyun says from somewhere behind a large sunflower. He sneezes.

One can’t really blame Sehun’s brain for malfunctioning at that particular bit of information.

“You?” He blurts, staring at Jongin.

All he gets is a shrug in response.

“Um, thanks. It’s really big. I mean, nice. It’s really nice.”

A grin spreads across Jongin’s face and delves into a chuckle. “Need a lift home?”

Sehun accepts the offer and doesn’t ask about Julien’s whereabouts.

 

 

 

  
The next time he sees Jongin for more than a few minutes at a time is during the third week of the new school year. Summer had flown by in a mess of summer jobs, babysitting duties, and a family vacation to a tropical island that turned him several shades darker and gave him a collection of mosquito bites up and down his calves.

Sehun misses the first week of school thanks to the trip and ends up having to spend the next few days rushing to catch up on his schoolwork before he completely falls off track. When he finally gets a break and Baekhyun invites him to one of his many parties, he jumps at the chance for some alcohol-induced relaxation. 

The second he steps inside the house, he nearly steps into a puddle of puke. A sickly pale boy is slumped against the door looking like he regrets ever enrolling into college in the first place.

“You might wanna get some Gatorade,” Sehun says, gingerly stepping over the mess. “And you’ll definitely want to clean that up – the guy who runs these parties hates having to clean up other people’s puke.”

The freshie (c’mon, judging by the state he's in, he’s 100% a freshman) nods tremulously and Sehun leaves him be, venturing into the kitchen where he has to give out a dozen fist bumps before he’s able to grab a drink. Baekhyun screams his name from across the room – nope, Sehun’s still too sober for him. So he heads out into the yard and settles into one of the rickety chairs that have shouldered the weight of many a drunk student.

He’s halfway through his drink when someone else shuffles out into the quiet of the yard. At first glance, Sehun doesn’t recognise him. But the way the guy holds himself is familiar – wait, is that Jongin?

“Jongin?”

Sehun gets a better look at his face when he glances up. It is Jongin, looking different thanks to a haircut and the lack of life in his eyes.

“Oh hey,” Jongin says. He wets his lips and says nothing else.

“You okay?”

“Um.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking lost.

That has Sehun rising to his feet. “Are you alright?”

“Julien and I broke up.”

Okay, Sehun did not see that coming. “Like… just now?”

“Yeah. He dumped me?”

For a split second, Jongin looks a little unstable on his feet, and Sehun darts across the yard to set a steadying hand by his elbow.

“Wanna sit?”

Jongin flops down onto the steps. His drink sloshes out of the cup, but he doesn’t seem to register the sticky liquid running down the backs of his fingers.

“He said,” Jongin begins, pressing the thumb of his free hand into the inner corner of his eye, “he said that he’s fallen out of love with me and that we stayed in a relationship because we got comfortable with each other. He said that at some point, neither of us were really in love with each other anymore. I –”

The blank look on Jongin’s face gives way to confusion which promptly morphs into anger, the switch so fast that it gives Sehun whiplash.

“Who the _fuck_ gave him permission to speak for me?” Jongin demands, glaring up at the night sky. He takes a gulp of his drink – even the way he swallows screams _I’m pissed off._

“Do you still love him?”

“Yeah,” Jongin says, but Sehun picks up on the few milliseconds of hesitation.

“Tell him.”

Jongin lifts a shoulder and sighs. “There’s no point. He doesn’t even seem upset about it – I think he’s been waiting for the opportunity, to be honest.”

Unsure of what to do, Sehun drains the rest of his own drink and gestures for Jongin to do the same. “Drink up. Let’s go win some beer pong games and get you enough money to buy something nice for yourself. Do you need volleyball knee pads? The new Smash game?”

Choking out a laugh, Jongin tips the contents of his cup down his throat and stands. “Sounds like a good plan. Maybe we can just get food though.”

An hour and a half later sees them stumbling out of the house with stomachs full of cheap beer and $46.70 in Jongin’s pocket.

“Shit,” Jongin giggles, “I can’t believe that guy threw up from all the beer he had to drink.”

Fresh air is a fucking blessing, Sehun thinks, slumping against the wall for a breath or five.

“Let’s get some pancakes,” Jongin decides, patting the money in his pocket. “My treat.”

He yanks Sehun off the wall, slings an arm around his shoulders, and together they make their wobbly way over to the nearest 24-hour diner. Halfway there, Jongin rests his head against the curve of Sehun’s shoulder and quietly says, “Thanks.”

Sehun simply reaches up and squeezes Jongin’s hand.

 

 

 

  
After that night of shitty beer and one too many chocolate chip pancakes, they go from being casual friends to being inseparable. Jongin calls Sehun his best friend, and while that feels amazing in its own right, Sehun always ends up wondering if that’s all they’ll ever be.

Instead of watching Julien get a kiss at the end of Jongin’s volleyball games, Sehun is finally the one who gets to be on the receiving end of Jongin’s attention – sure, it’s a sweaty hug and not a sweet press of lips against lips, but he’ll take what he can get.

Jongin spends so much time in Sehun’s dorm room that he ends up stashing a few changes of clothes, a spare toothbrush, and a sleeping bag there. Sehun tries not to read too much into it, but it’s hard not to when Jongin sleeps shirtless and enjoys platonic cuddling at all times of the day.

They study together, work out together, eat together – with all that proximity, it’s inevitable that Sehun’s simple crush develops into something a lot less simple. Sure, the primal thought of _fuck, he’s hot_ carries over, but Sehun goes from wanting a good makeout session to wanting a relationship. He wants to feel the weight of Jongin’s hand in his, wants to fall asleep together with their legs a tangled mess, wants to discover what ‘making love’ really entails.

“Hey,” Jongin asks one day. They’re watching a movie, Sehun’s laptop balancing precariously on a pillow perched across their laps. “Why don’t you ever go on dates?”

Sehun stalls for time and wonders if he should just tell Jongin the truth.

He ends up going with: “The person I like isn’t interested in me.”

“Damn, really? Whoever that is really doesn’t know what they’re missing out on, huh?”

Sehun wants to slam his head against the wall behind him. “Yeah? What _are_ they missing out on?”

Jongin doesn’t even miss a beat, eyes still trained on the screen as he scoffs. “Are you kidding? Everything, Sehun. You’re perfect.”

Holy shit, what horrendous crime did he commit in his past life to deserve this? His confession is already bubbling up behind the seam of his lips, but he shoves a handful of pretzels into his mouth and lets the dryness plug up the leak.

But as Sehun soon realises, you can’t patch up cracks in a dam with a few Band-Aids and expect to get away with it. Pressure builds and builds and – the Band-Aids just can’t hold the pieces together.

It’s a Saturday night and their entire group has met up for dinner and a few drinks. The winter chill has Jongin constantly burrowing closer to Sehun for warmth, flooding Sehun’s senses with _Jongin Jongin Jongin_ , and it’s bloody overwhelming.

He suffers through dinner, barely able to pay attention to his friends because Jongin’s got a hand literally in Sehun’s coat pocket. “Your coat is thicker,” Jongin had said, and Sehun had half a mind to take his entire coat off for a moment of sanity.

It really doesn’t get any better in the bar, not when nine of them have to pack themselves into a tiny booth meant for six. The alcohol provides enough of a distraction, Sehun supposes, but his willpower crumbles into ashes when Jongin sets a hand on his thigh and squeezes. The guy’s in the middle of a conversation with Baekhyun and the action was probably subconscious, but it’s enough to send Sehun bolting upright.

“Need some air,” he rushes out, then runs outside. Heart rattling, he shoves his way through the crowd and out of the doors until there’s nothing but space around him.

He gets a few seconds of peace and quiet before Jongin’s voice floats into his ears.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He takes a breath. “Felt lightheaded for a bit back there.”

“Don’t lie to me, I know when you’re not feeling well. You’ve been tense the whole night.”

Sehun frowns. “You noticed?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jongin says, giving him an odd look. “Of course I noticed. You’re my best friend.”

God, those two words _kill_ him. Sehun runs his tongue along the backs of his teeth and takes a step closer to Jongin.

“I need to tell you something.”

Oblivious, Jongin gestures for him to continue. Sehun can feel his heart gripping onto the rungs of his ribs, so tightly that the bones could bruise.

“I have feelings for you.”

Shock tears through Jongin, evident in the widening of his eyes and the parting of his lips. “You _what?_ Since – since when?”

Sehun wants to laugh. “Let’s just say that it’s been long enough.”

Silence beats down on them, the sounds of traffic and passersby muted and uncared for.

“I never told you because I didn’t want it to change anything between us,” Sehun says. “And now that I have, I really hope it doesn’t.” A gust of wind blows against his neck, pulling the little hairs to attention and sending a shiver running down his back. He flips his collar up and stuffs his hands into his pockets, sighing and watching as his breath condenses in the cold.

“I’m gonna head back now. Tell the others that I don’t feel good or something.”

He turns to leave and Jongin doesn’t stop him. Bitterness floods his mouth.

 

 

 

  
Fresh out of the shower, Sehun’s got one leg in his underwear and is hopping around trying to get the other one in when someone pounds furiously on his door.

“Christ,” he mutters, flicking water out of his eyes. Somewhat dressed, he shuffles over to the door and yanks it open, not really caring if he looks like a mess. Jongin’s standing there in the hallway, cheeks flushed, nose red, and chest heaving with exertion.

“You – did you run here? Jongin, that’s – that’s like ten kilometres.”

“Sit down,” Jongin rasps, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto Sehun’s desk. “I’m going to shower, and when I come out we’re going to talk.”

Sehun, dumbstruck, flops down onto his bed and stares after Jongin’s back as he disappears into the tiny bathroom. At least Jongin takes quick showers, he thinks dazedly, ears hyperfocused on the sound of water rushing out of the showerhead.

Sure enough, barely five minutes later and Sehun no longer hears running water. Something drops, Jongin curses, and the door flies open to reveal the man in nothing but a towel.

“You can’t just say shit like that and _walk away_ ,” Jongin explodes, flinging an arm out in emphasis and sending water flying everywhere. A few drops land on Sehun’s face.

“You’re right,” Sehun says, slow and careful. “I’m sorry.”

Conversation stops and whatever’s happening between them turns into a staring contest. Jongin is clearly aggravated and Sehun isn’t quite sure on how he should be navigating these choppy waters.

They’re silent for so long that the water on Jongin’s body has long since evaporated when someone finally speaks up.

“So… did you run all the way back here just to tell me what I did was rude?”

Jongin’s jaw works, brows pulled tight. “No? I don’t know why I came here.”

“Do you want to sit down, maybe?”

Jongin studies him for a moment, then takes a step forward. Just as Sehun’s about to move over to make space for him on the bed, Jongin reaches out with both hands and slides his fingers up both sides of Sehun’s face.

Sehun freezes, skin burning where Jongin’s touching him. Those fingertips venture higher, trailing along his hairline before pushing into the still-damp strands. They move through his hair almost lovingly, following the shape of his head until they end up cradling the base of his skull. A thumb presses on the corner of his mouth, hesitant and curious.

“Jongin –”

That thumb shifts to the centre of his lips and Sehun immediately shuts up. When Jongin takes another step forward, Sehun parts his legs to give him space, space that Jongin uses. Hair falls forward and obscures Jongin’s eyes when he bends, leaving Sehun searching futilely for a goddamn hint of whatever is going through his mind.

Jongin drags his thumb down the curve of Sehun’s lip, excruciatingly slow, and Sehun’s lungs have long since given up on expecting any oxygen when Jongin leans in and kisses him.

Two, three, four seconds fly by before time staggers to a stop.

“Wait,” Sehun croaks, pulling back and holding Jongin at bay. “I don’t want this to go any further if this isn’t what _you_ want.”

They’re close enough to be sharing air.

“Jongin – _is this what you want?_ ”

 _Am_ I _what you want?_

Somehow, Sehun isn’t surprised when Jongin’s answer comes in the form of another kiss. And _god_ , of course he kisses back, because how could he not?

Everything happens much too quickly after that – the frame of the bed rattles when their combined body weight falls back onto the mattress, frantic hands grabbing at the edge of the towel and at the waistband of Sehun’s underwear. Lips are everywhere, leaving bruises and teeth marks behind wherever they go, and the pain that Sehun feels when Jongin tugs on his hair burns a straight line down to his dick.

Everything lacks finesse, from the way they nip at each other’s lips to the way Jongin wraps a rough hand around their cocks, grip twisting on the upstroke and unyielding on the way back down. Sehun’s knee is probably digging uncomfortably into Jongin’s hip, but neither one cares enough to do anything about it.

Things started fast and they end fast, Sehun coming with Jongin’s name lodged somewhere in his gut and Jongin’s mouth against his.

It’s only when they’re catching their breaths, come drying on Sehun’s stomach, does his brain catch up with the rest of his body.

“I need to –” He gestures madly at the bathroom. Jongin rolls off him and lets him go without a word.

When he re-enters the bedroom just minutes later, Jongin’s already gone.

 

 

 

 

He doesn’t see or talk to Jongin for days. It seems as though Jongin is actively avoiding him – he doesn’t even join them for lunch, and the only time Sehun manages to catch a glimpse of his best friend (?) is when he passes by the gymnasium during the volleyball team’s practice one day.

Sehun has long since gotten past being upset. He’s fucking angry – at himself for blurting out the truth, at Jongin for not giving him a straightforward answer, at the both of them for letting it get this far.

Fine, if Jongin doesn’t want to speak to him, then so be it.

“What’s up with you two?” Baekhyun asks one day. He actually looks worried and Sehun momentarily wonders if Jongin had said anything to him.

“Wish I knew.”

This shit goes on for a couple weeks until Sehun turns the corner to his dorm room one day and sees Jongin leaning against the door.

“You here for your stuff?”

They sound like they’ve just broken up when they were never together in the first place, Sehun thinks sourly, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

“What? No, fuck, I’m here for you. We should talk.” Jongin enters and shuts the door behind him.

The second the lock clicks, Jongin clears his throat and gestures between them. “This isn’t going to work out.” He chews on the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to figure out the best way to explain himself. “You’re amazing, and under any other circumstance I think we would’ve been great together, but – I don’t think I’m fully over Julien yet.”

Oh, Sehun is _livid_.

“I asked you,” he begins, voice trembling with poorly suppressed anger, “I _asked_ you if that was what you wanted. I gave you the choice, Jongin. All you had to do was say no, and I would’ve been okay with it.”

“I –”

“You could’ve stopped at any time and you didn’t. You didn’t stop and you left without a word. Avoiding me all this time and you have the guts to say what I did was rude? What you did was fucking despicable.”

The guilt on Jongin’s face cuts Sehun off, the anger dropping to a simmer.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” he mutters, “but I’m gonna need some time.”

“Yeah, of course. Take as much time as you need. I just hope you know how important you are to me.”

Sehun, seated at the foot of his bed with his head hung low, doesn’t look up when he hears the door open. He doesn’t look up until many, many minutes later.

 

 

 

  
He gives himself time to deal with it, to accept that shit happened and that their friendship deserves a second chance. It takes a while, but the ache that he feels deep in the depths of his heart whenever he thinks of Jongin gradually fades away.

Their dynamic, surprisingly, doesn’t change at all. It’s easy to fall back into enjoying Jongin’s company, the effortless way they make each other laugh and finish each other’s sentences. Unrequited love may be a bitch to deal with, but at least he still gets to call Jongin his best friend and receive the best hugs.

Jongin seems to treat him _better_ , oddly enough. There are more touches, more smiles, and more time spent together, something that Sehun never thought was even possible. He even gets another gigantic bouquet at his dance showcase that year, this time all paid for by Jongin himself. Everything goes well – swimmingly well, in fact – so Sehun really should’ve expected it when it all goes upside-down again.

He’s late to the party, held back by the need to rush a term paper that was due. Eight minutes after he steps foot into the house, Sehun stops to re-evaluate his life decisions. He should have fucking stayed in his room and spent more time working on his essay instead of coming to this blasted party.

There, across the room, is Jongin. He’s seated on a pulpy-looking couch with a girl on his lap, her tongue down his throat and his hands firmly on her ass.

He should really take the high road, but he’s tired and stressed and still stupidly in love with his best friend. So he walks over, pulls the girl off Jongin’s face, and says, “I guess you’re over Julien now, huh? Or is this another perfect example of you not being clear with what you want?”

Before Jongin even gets the chance to respond, Sehun leaves.

Twenty minutes later and Sehun is back in his room, shoving clothes into his suitcase and pointedly ignoring the incessant knocks on his door.

Jongin calls his name, over and over again for close to half an hour before the knocking stops and only silence can be heard from the other side of the door. Sehun doesn’t bother checking to see if he’s still out there – he finishes packing, takes a shower, and goes to bed.

He doesn’t get a wink of sleep.

 

 

 

  
Junior year is… different, to say the very least.

Sehun refuses to let Jongin fuck up his life any longer, so he refocuses all of his energy on his studies. While he still spends time with Baekhyun and his other friends, he stops going to parties and volleyball games. Thankfully, Jongin respects his space and leaves him alone, and even Baekhyun doesn’t push him for answers regarding whatever had transpired between them.

Days and weeks and months fly by, and Sehun finally thinks he has moved on. The sight of Jongin no longer pains him, nor does the thought of him being with other people. So when Jongin shows up at his yearly dance showcase with _another_ one of those obnoxiously large flower bouquets, Sehun is literally stunned speechless.

“Hey,” Jongin begins, clearly nervous judging by the way he’s clutching at the flowers like they’re a lifeline. A lily dangles in front of his face and Sehun almost reaches out to push it aside. “You don’t have to talk to me at all, but will you just let me say a few words?”

Jongin takes his silence as a yes.

“I owe you an apology. Probably a truckload of them, huh?” He laughs awkwardly, scratches the back of his neck, and sighs. “I’ve had a lot of time to think and there are a few things that I know I should admit to, for both our sakes.”

Sehun waits, expectant and more than a little wary.

“Remember when I told you that I wasn’t over Julien? That was a lie. I was scared of losing you and that just came out of my mouth – to me, you being angry was a lot better than the thought of you being hurt.”

“Great,” Sehun deadpans. “What else you got for me?”

“I kissed that girl because she reminded me of you. Her personality, her charisma, even the way she eats chips. She reminded me of you, and I couldn’t kiss you, so I –”

“Are you serious?” Sehun demands, shoving the flowers aside so he can step closer. Several people around them turn to look, but Sehun could really care less about them. “Jongin, what the fuck are you trying to tell me?”

“I really like you,” Jongin blurts, almost as red as the roses currently trying to worm their way into his hair.

“You like me,” Sehun repeats dumbly. “So you thought the best thing to do was lie to me? And make out with someone else that reminded you of me when you knew I had feelings for you and you could’ve just made out with _me?_ ” He’s pretty sure he’s rambling, but proper sentence structure really isn’t important to him, not when he’s learning for the first time that Jongin _likes him_.

“When you asked me that night if that was what I wanted, I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say yes so badly, but Sehun, you’re the only person I can’t risk losing. You’re my best friend.”

Sehun can only stare at him, at Jongin’s infuriatingly beautiful face, at the person he’s been hopelessly in love with for the past couple of years.

“Why did you take so long to come and talk to me?”

“I wasn’t sure if you would even want to listen to what I had to say. But tomorrow is your birthday and I’m graduating in a couple of months; I didn’t want to leave without at least giving you the apology that you deserve.”

Okay, Sehun’s a dumbass for thinking he’ll ever be able to get over Kim Jongin.

“Ask me again,” Jongin says, adjusting the flowers in his grip.

“What?”

“Ask me. Please?”

Oh.

“Is this –” Sehun takes a breath. “Am I what you want?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Jongin swallows and huffs at a stalk of baby’s breath until it inches away. “Will you still have me?”

 

 

 

  
Jongin’s mortarboard is crooked, but Sehun thinks it looks _super_ adorable. Or maybe he’s just biased (it’s very likely he’s biased). He’s been taking pictures throughout the whole ceremony – later, when he looks back through the photographs, he’ll notice that none of them focuses on the certificate that Jongin has in his hands. Every single picture is just of Jongin and his happy, smiling face.

“Hey,” he smiles, stepping out from beneath the shade of the tree when Jongin appears from the swarm of students currently exiting the hall. He’d left a few minutes earlier in order to track down their friends and gather them all together in one spot for more pictures.

“Hi,” Jongin breathes, pulling Sehun close for a kiss.

“Happy convocation,” Sehun says between kisses, toes curling in his shoes when he feels Jongin’s smile against his lips. Humming, Jongin presses impossibly closer. “I took a leaf out of your book and bought those huge flowers for you, but they would probably take up too much attention in pictures. I’ll give them to you later?”

“Sure, babe. Thanks for coming,” Jongin murmurs, thumbing at the slope of his cheekbones.

“Of course. Right now, this is the only place I want to be. I love you.”

Next to them, Baekhyun gags and pretends to throw up all over the grass. Jongin kicks him in the shins.

“Oh, give us a break,” he says to his friend, “I have to leave for training in a couple of weeks and won’t get to see him for a while. We lost a lot of time being stupid and I just want to enjoy the time we do get to spend together.”

Rolling his eyes, Baekhyun leans over and pulls the camera out of Sehun’s grasp.

“Fine, but I get to take pictures of you guys being disgustingly cute.”

Sehun laughs and reaches up to straighten Jongin’s mortarboard. “Yeah, take as many as you want.”

**Author's Note:**

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